A week has passed since the funeral. The day the entire cosmos has awaited finally arrives. Deities and spirits from every realm stream into the Underworld to witness the historic Rejudgement. Among them are Hestia and Rhea, their purpose far more personal than political.
Sebastian greets them at the castle gate with a deep bow. "Welcome, Lady Rhea, Lady Hestia. The Lord and Lady await you in the private gardens." He leads them through quiet, shadowed corridors, away from the bustling main halls, until they emerge into a secluded garden courtyard.
Rhea's eyes sweep the area, barely registering the beauty. "Where is Hades?" she asks, her voice tight.
Before Sebastian can answer, a voice comes from behind a flowering archway. "I am here, Mother." Hades and Hecate approach. Hecate gestures for Sebastian to leave, and with a bow, he departs.
As they sit, Rhea's eyes scan Hades, her gaze lingering on the faint shadows under his eyes and the slight dullness of his wings. She picks up her teacup, her movements slow and deliberate. She takes a single, slow sip before placing it down again. "How is your health?"
Hades' shoulders stiffen almost imperceptibly. "Good."
Rhea places her hands flat on the table, her fingers pressing down until her knuckles are white. "Lie." She leans forward slightly. "Your life force is critically depleted. At this rate, you have barely two centuries left."
Hades goes still, sensing the potent mix of anger and heart-wrenching worry radiating from his mother.
Hades' breath catches. He opens his mouth to protest, but Rhea's hand shoots out, gripping and twisting his ear.
"Aieeee! Mother, relea—!" His plea is cut short as she gives him a sharp, motherly thump on the head.
"You filial son!" she scolds, her voice shaking. She shakes him by the ear. "You are not even a century old and you dare lie to your mother!"
Hestia flinches back, her hands flying to her mouth. Hecate simply picks up the teapot and pours a second cup. She glides to Hestia's side and holds it out.
Hestia's eyes dart between the scuffle and the offered cup. Hestia thinks, 'Shouldn't we help them.' Then she looks at the calm Hecate leisurely enjoying her tea. 'Nah! Let them calm down by their own.' She picks up the offered tea, and as she takes a sip her tongue gets burned.
Rhea's punches soften into helpless fists against his chest before she finally stills, tears welling in her eyes. "Mother…" Hades whispers, gently wiping them away.
"Do you have any idea," she chokes out, her body slumping, "how worried I've been? Every single second, my thoughts are with you and those two other fools on Olympus." Her voice breaks. "I have three sons, and all of you seem determined to get yourselves killed!"
"Mother…" Hades whispers, his own hand rising to gently wipe her tears away. The last of his defensive posture melts away. He closes the distance and pulls her into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Mother."
A sniffle comes from Hestia. Tears stream down her face as she watches them. Hecate wordlessly offers a pristine white handkerchief.
"Thank you," Hestia mumbles, wiping her eyes and then—"Sssnnffk!"—blowing her nose loudly before handing the damp, messy cloth back.
Hecate stares at it. Her lip curls in a minuscule show of distaste. She flicks her fingers, and the handkerchief vanishes in a wisp of psychic ash.
Rhea takes a deep, shuddering breath. She pushes Hades away, her hands lingering on his arms for a moment before she turns. She picks up an ornate case from the bench beside her and places it on the table with a soft thud. She opens it, revealing pulsating, otherworldly fruits. "These contain a vast amount of life force," she explains, pushing the case toward him. "Enough to extend your lifespan by two centuries. Eat them." She says, her voice raw but firm. "All of them."
Hades hesitates, his eyes on her tear-streaked face. Then, he nods. He picks up the first fruit and takes a bite. As he chews, a visible wave of relief washes through him. His posture straightens. The faint shadows under his eyes recede. With each subsequent fruit, the dull wings on his back begin to shine, their metallic lustre returning like polished stone. A dense dark haze drifts from his skin. He draws a deep, full breath, and when his eyes open, the exhaustion is gone, replaced by a cold, sharp amethyst focus. The very temperature in the garden seems to drop.
"Thank you, Mother. I will never forget this." Hades bows deeply.
Rhea caresses his now-cool cheek with her warm hand. "You owe me nothing. I am your mother. What mother could be happy watching her child suffer?"
Suddenly, Sebastian bursts into the garden. "My Lord, forgive the intrusion! There is an urgent matter."
Hades' newly sharpened eyes narrow. "Speak."
"A horde of strange creatures has breached the second gate of the labyrinth!"
"Where is Druvak?"
Sebastian's eyes drop to the ground. "He... he remains under the oak tree, my Lord. The empty bottles pile up around him."
Hades' irritation flashes. "Drag him to the Giant Chasm. Tell him if sorrow has rusted his bones so badly he forgets his duties, I will find a new General of Tartarus."
He stands, murmuring, "Helkarion… Velkarion." Helkarion and Velkarion materialize in his hands. His wings spread wide. "I will meet you in the judgement hall," he says to the women.
As he is about to take flight, Sebastian dares to speak. "But, my Lord, the guests who are arriv—"
He freezes mid-sentence as Hades' glare falls upon him, a look so cold it seems to freeze the blood in his veins. Sebastian instantly drops to his knee. "Forgive me! I overstepped!"
"Stand. Sebastian," Hades says, his voice like ice. "Remember this: in our time of war, those 'guests' stood not with us, but against us. Their comfort is not my priority."
Hades beats his wings and shoots into the sky. Sebastian leaves this place in a hurry.
A slight smile touches Hecate's lips. Hestia, recovering, asks, "I have one question. Why demand this Rejudgement? What does the Underworld gain?"
Hecate smiles, her tone gracious. "The Underworld cannot abide injustice. Its very nature demands balance."
Hestia's expression warms with admiration.
Rhea sets her cup down with a soft click. Her voice is flat, unwavering. "The actual reason, dear. Not the poetry."
Hecate sighs and raises three fingers. "Faction. Ethics. Curse."
Rhea sets her teacup down with deliberate softness. Her gaze grows distant, seeing not the garden but the shifting allegiances of the cosmos. "Five factions," she states, her voice taking on the measured cadence of a general reviewing a map. "Zeus holds Olympus, the largest. Poseidon commands the seas and those who fear his tempers. Your own Underworld realm, smaller but entrenched. The scattered remnants still loyal to Cronus, festering in resentment." She pauses, her eyes sharpening as they meet Hecate's. "And the neutrals—beings like Helios—who cherish their independence above all."
She leans forward, her fingers tracing the rim of her saucer. "Zeus's order to condemn Cronus and all his allies to Tartarus wasn't just about punishment. It was a purge. Wipe out one faction entirely, and the neutrals, terrified of being next, would have no choice but to kneel to Olympus to survive." Her lips thin. "But Hades refused the order. By calling for a Rejudgement, he didn't just oppose Zeus. He threw a lifeline to the neutrals, proving there was a power that valued law over tyranny. And in doing so," she concludes, the final piece clicking into place with chilling clarity, "he has made the Underworld the natural sanctuary for Cronus's forsaken allies and any neutral who seeks true sovereignty. You're not just forming a bloc. You're building a counterweight to the celestial throne itself."
A slow, genuine smile of respect spreads across Hecate's face. She lightly claps and gives a single, deep nod. "Every word, a perfect strike to the heart of the matter. You see the board as clearly as any player, Lady Rhea."
"Enough," Rhea says, waving a hand, though the ghost of that knowing smile remains. "The politics are plain enough for anyone with eyes to see. Now, the third reason you gave. 'Curse.' That word implies a hidden hand. What have you seen?"
The air in the garden seems to grow still. Hecate's playful confidence fades, replaced by a solemn gravity. She leans in, her voice dropping so only they can hear. "A question only few can answer, Lady Rhea. You knew the Titan King before the crown touched his brow. Look back across the centuries… when did the husband you loved first become a stranger to you?"
Rhea freezes. The color drains from her face. A flood of thousands of moments and memories of unexplained coldness, a creeping shadow behind his eyes she'd blamed on the burdens of kingship.
Hestia's smaller voice pierces the heavy silence. "It was when Mother was pregnant with Hades," she whispers, as if confessing a long-held fear. "Father changed. It wasn't just anger. It was like… like there is someone else in his skin."
Hecate nods, her expression one of grim confirmation. "Because the throne of the Celestial King was never meant to be his. It was taken, and it was cursed."
Rhea and Hestia jolt as if struck. "CURSED?!" Rhea's hand flies to her chest.
"When Uranus was cast down, his final act was to cast a sweet venom into the very essence of the throne. A seed of paranoia, of devouring fear. It twisted his deepest fears—of being overthrown, of losing his power—into his only reality. And become what we know."
Rhea makes a small, choked sound. Her hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide with a horrifying, dawning comprehension. The decades of confusion, the heartbreak, the blame she had directed at the man she loved… it had all been aimed at a puppet of a deeper, older poison. She looks at Hecate, her face pale. "Can I… can I see him?"
Hecate considers the logistics. 'Hades battling monsters. Underworld bustling with deities from other realms. Julie and his legion busy maintaining law and order.' "Not now," she says gently but firmly. "But once the judgement is passed, yes. You may."
"Thank you," Rhea whispers, her voice thick.
A maid approaches and kneels. "Lady Hecate, it is time. Your presence is required in the Judgement Hall."
Hecate nods. "Lady Rhea, Lady Hestia. Please, accompany me." Rhea, leaning on Hestia for support, rises to her feet, steeling herself for what is to come.